Moments In Time
by Winter's Fallen Angel
Summary: A series of vignettes from Pride and Prejudice.
1. Asking For Permission

**Asking for Permission**

**By Winter's Fallen Angel**

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Summary: Vignette from Pride and Prejudice. Based on "In the evening, soon after Mr Bennet withdrew to the library, she saw Mr Darcy rise also and follow him …" This is one of the scenarios that I've thought would happen.

Author's Note: I've changed this from the original one (posted on 12/07/07); nothing major, no plot changes.

Disclaimer: Any characters, plot, phrases that you recognise from the original work are obviously not mine.

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Mr Bennet sat in his library, enjoying the book he was currently reading, and a small amount of brandy. This, for many years now, had been his habit, and was not going to change it any time soon. Usually, once he withdrew to the library, no one would come looking for him, except his Lizzy. It was therefore a great surprise when a sharp, decided knock came from the other side of the door, nothing like Lizzy's gentler one. Taking a short break from reading, he put down the book and set aside the brandy, and called out, 'Yes? Come in.'

Something must have gone wrong, for there, closing the door, was Mr Darcy. Not being in his presence for any long amount of time, Mr Bennet did not hate Mr Darcy as much as he thought his second eldest daughter did. Yes, it could be safely said that Mr Bennet did not see Mr Darcy as the most pleasant company, but on occasions he saw a wittier, knowledgeable man, when not in the company of a certain Miss Caroline Bingley, his wife and younger daughters.

'Mr Darcy! I did not expect to see you here. Are the ladies a little too much? I am sure I have heard enough of lace to last me a life time! And to think that I still have three more daughters!' At this, he chucked a little, and looked to Mr Darcy. 'Oh, dear me, I've seemed to have forgotten my manners. Care for a brandy, Mr Darcy?'

'No, sir, I do not think that I will have any brandy tonight. However, I do come with a request.'

'A request, Mr Darcy? Did I hear correctly? That is most strange, sir. But, I will do my best to help you. What is it that you need?'

'I need your permission, sir…' But before he could continue, Mr Bennet interrupted with, 'You, sir, a man of reportedly £10,000 a year, need _this _old man's permission? What in heaven's name would you need _my _permission for?' Maybe there was something wrong with Mr Darcy, Mr Bennet thought. Then a thought of what he could grant permission came to mind, but he quickly dismissed the idea. It was impossible.

Mr Darcy was by now very nervous, and Mr Bennet observed him twisting his signet ring. 'If you would let me continue, sir,' he looked up and Mr Bennet felt some pity on him, and nodded.

Feeling on edge, and not particularly calm, Mr Darcy proceeded to blurt out, 'I would like your permission to marry your daughter, Miss Elizabeth.' There. He had said it, and all he could do was watch the amazed expression on his fiancée's father's face, hoping that his request would have a positive answer.

Mr Darcy wanted to marry _his _Elizabeth? That was simply impossible—not that he didn't think of it before—yet here was the £10,000 man himself, asking for permission to marry his most precious daughter. It would not be sensible to refuse such an offer: who knew what Mr Darcy would do if he refused, but still! Mr Darcy had not shown any distinct regard towards his daughter, and Lizzy herself had told him of what a horrible man he was. Could he let his dearest Lizzy into such a marriage? One where she did not esteem her husband? Feeling Mr Darcy's stare, he felt that he needed to give an answer.

'Well, I do not suppose that I cannot say "no". Yes, Mr Darcy, you have my permission to marry Elizabeth.' Relief was clear on the younger man's face. 'But before I give my blessing, may I ask _why_, exactly, do you wish to marry Lizzy? You know that I cannot offer more than £1,000, and that is after her mother's death.'

The mask that Mr Darcy was always wearing vanished, and Mr Bennet saw who he really was: a young man, with far too many responsibilities, and, surprisingly enough, warmth that could only be said to be love. A softer, almost wistful tone replaced his usual hard, decisive voice, and said, 'I…love your daughter, sir. Yes, I do realise that she has no real fortune, but I am willing to settle £30,000 on her, which is equal to my sister Georgiana's inheritance. She has provided me with something that has been missing for a long time, something that no amount of money could buy. Miss Elizabeth makes me happy, sir, and I cannot say how much that means to me.'

'So I assume that happiness is a rare thing, Mr Darcy? Does not anything or anyone else give you happiness too? Do you not take any pleasure in reading, as I have been often told?' His mind was still trying to work, trying to find a way out before his Elizabeth found out what he had done.

'You mistake me, sir. I do take pleasure in reading, and other activities. My sister, Georgiana, gives me happiness too, but of a different kind. Miss Elizabeth is someone I can talk to, and I have found out that her happiness… is my happiness,' said Mr Darcy, referring to Lydia's elopement with Wickham. Not used to talking of his inner, most private feelings, he gathered up all his courage to say, 'I am a man of means and money. There are few things that I did want in my childhood, and I can buy almost anything. Your daughter showed me what I was lacking in my life. She also showed me that she would not marry just for money and a secure future—which, when living amongst the Ton, is refreshing. There is no other woman like Miss Elizabeth: she _is_, truly, a priceless jewel.'

All the time that Mr Darcy was talking, Mr Bennet was discreetly watching his every facial expression. 'So Mr Darcy loves my Elizabeth?' he thought. 'Question is does she love him back? After all that she's said of him?' Love really was a strong word—after all; he fell in love with his wife's looks some odd three-and-twenty years ago. Where had that gotten him? He could not find fault with the man's preference in a wife; any man who wanted his Lizzy to be their wife was a smart man. For the first time in their short acquaintance, the younger man's face betrayed his every feeling, and if love was too strong a word, then desire and admiration was not.

Not wanting to face Mr Bennet, Mr Darcy started pacing. 'I know that this must come as a surprise to you—but I can assure you that my feelings have not changed for many months now. We first met at Rosings, my Aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh's estate, and that was an accidental meeting. There I learnt some things about myself…' Here Mr Darcy trailed off a bit, before accumulating his thoughts. 'I realised then what made a true gentleman, and I believe that I have changed.' Here, Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows, but stayed quiet.

'Then came the summer – I met her again, but this time it was in my home, Pemberley. I saw the change in her attitude to me; by then, I knew that she had fallen in love with me too.' Mr Bennet's eyebrows went higher, but said nothing. The man seemed convinced that Elizabeth loved him. 'I had decided to propose to her again, but…an unfortunate event occurred, and I could not. So when Bingley came down to Netherfield, I joined him, in hopes of having a chance at proposing, and here I am now.

'I do not know what will convince you that I love your daughter, but I do. And that is not ever going to change.' He stopped pacing, and looked Mr Bennet in the eye, hoping, praying, and willing him that he would see how much Elizabeth meant to him. 'I know how this must feel for you, sir. Georgiana is more than ten years my junior, and sometimes feels like a daughter to me. I do not know if I could let her go. But, if you think about it positively, you would be gaining a son, and also two very fine libraries, at Darcy House in Town and Pemberley. Then there is also my liquor collection that I inherited from as far back as my great-great-grandfather.'

Mr Bennet allowed a hearty chuckle to escape. 'Well, son, I like your way of thinking. You have my permission, and my blessing. But can I first have a talk with Elizabeth?' He liked what he saw of the new Mr Darcy, but it was time for Elizabeth to tell him her feelings.

Mr Bennet looked at Mr Darcy, and saw no sense of dread as he half-expected, but a confidence that came from the knowledge that it did not matter what Mr Bennet said to his daughter, he would still be getting married to the women he loved, and who loved him back completely.


	2. The Marriage of a Daughter

**The Marriage of a Daughter**

**By Winter's Fallen Angel**

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Summary: Vignette from Pride and Prejudice. Based on "...on this happy day [Mrs Bennet again took her seat at the head of her table, and in spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her triumph." A look into Mrs Bennet's thoughts 

Author's Note: _Might _have exaggerated her reactions...and her thoughts...oh well...makes it more fun!

Disclaimer: Any characters, plot, phrases that you recognise from the original work are obviously not mine.

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'Oh, my!—my dear Lydia is to be married! And to _such_ a handsome man! Now there is a good daughter, marrying while she's young. If only Elizabeth would open her eyes and follow Lydia's footsteps. But no, she has to be little Miss Independent, not thinking about her family's future. Oh! how proud I am of my dear, dear Lydia!' thought Mrs Bennet happily. 'This is such a grand occasion that I think I shall go down for my dinner, no matter how ill I am.' 

And so, on that day, Mrs Bennet again took her seat at the head of her table, looking around quite proudly at her other children, her husband, and at the servants who were serving the food. Her eyes landed on her two eldest, who both did not have pleased faces, but it looked more melancholy, and Mary with her usual stone face. Elizabeth, particularly, did not look happy for her youngest sister.

'Well, I suppose that she's not happy that Lydia is married before she is. I know that she regrets refusing that Mr Collins, who ended up with the plain Miss Lucas. Oh! but I can just imagine Lady Lucas's jealous face—my daughter married at sixteen, and hers at twenty-seven! Elizabeth is soon becoming an old maid; she does not even have Jane's beauty to tempt the men,' she thought, looking at her second-eldest daughter, who was picking at her meal.

Jane, too, was looking like Elizabeth, but she tried to hide it. 'Why is Jane not happier? What is _wrong _with this family? And I thought that Jane was a perfect daughter—but she didn't catch Mr Bingley, though, and Lydia got that delightful Mr Wickham. How I do love a man in a red coat! Now, if Elizabeth wasn't so stubborn, married Mr Collins and Jane had become Mrs Bingley, I would be quite happy,' she thought, and in a sudden burst of sense, she realised, 'Poor Jane! No wonder why she's upset—Lydia got Mr Wickham but she didn't get Mr Bingley!

'How _dare _that Mr Bingley just go away! Just because he has five thousand a year does not mean that he can just disappear without a marriage proposal! Why, he quite ruined my plans to have Jane as Mistress of Netherfield. That would have been perfect; Jane would only be three miles away—I'm sure that she would have loved to get my advice.'

Kitty, the only one who was really happy for her sister, asked her mother, 'Mama, where is Lydia to live? I could not bear it if she was too far away from me.'

Mr Bennet looked up from his food to Kitty, who under her father's stare, looked down. Mrs Bennet missed all of it because she was busy searching in her mind through the neighbourhood for a proper situation for her daughter.

'How much will they have?' she thought, but then dismissed it: 'It does not matter. Now, what about Riverswater House? No, their garden is too small, even though they have a lovely parlour.'

Out loud, she said, 'Haye Park might do, if the Gouldings would quit it—or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing room were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me, and Kitty would want to visit, and as for Pulvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful.'

Mrs Bennet talked in the same vein for the rest of the meal, from other options of housing to mew carriages and servants. There was the wedding to be considered, which in Mrs Bennet's opinion, would be the most elegant nuptials Hertfordshire had seen if she was in charge. New muslin would have to be ordered, to make the wedding dress, and then the whole family would have to get fitted—wearing something old to a wedding was never fashionable! By the end, she had returned back to houses, talking about Burntwood Park and Decleng Hall.

When the servants had withdrawn, Mr Bennet said to his wife: 'Mrs Bennet, before you take any or all of there houses for your son and daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into _one _house in this neighbourhood they shall never had admittance. I will not encourage the imprudence of either, by receiving that at Longbourn.'

Mrs Bennet's first reaction was disbelief. Did her husband just say what she thought he said?

'No,' she thought, 'I must be mistaken. Lydia, my dearest Lydia, not to be received after her wedding—that is insupportable!'

'I mean every word, Mrs Bennet, and they shall not be acknowledged by our family. She is a disgrace to this family, and I will not allow her presence in this house. That is _final_, Mrs Bennet.'

'But!—Mr Bennet! You cannot be serious!'

'I am perfectly serious. In fact, I have never been more serious in my life.'

After a lengthily argument, in which Mr Bennet stood firm, the family parted. Elizabeth and Jane went up to their rooms, Mary to the piano, and Kitty took up some needlework. Mr Bennet departed for the comfort of his library, and Mrs Bennet went to her bedchamber, still in amazement and horror over her husband's demands.

'How could his anger be carried to this point of refusing to see his own daughter after marriage?' she said aloud to an empty room. 'He does not understand what it takes a woman to get married to a man—who really cares if she eloped with dear Mr Wickham?' Here she forgot that she lived on gossip such as an elopement, and reasoned out the elopement with: 'They _are_ getting married, and that is what counts. I would be quite ashamed if Lydia is married in old clothes; that would just be ghastly!'

Mrs Bennet's dearest wish since Jane was sixteen was answered, but she did not get to see it. However, under the words of advice from his two eldest daughters, Mr Bennet allowed the newly wed couple to come to Longbourn for a short period of time.

'I knew that he would come to see reason,' thought Mrs Bennet cheerfully as he announced that Mr and Mrs Wickham would be joining them after the wedding. 'It was rather bad that I could not help dear Lydia with the wedding—and it was such _small_ one too!—but I am happy to see her. She is now Mrs Wickham! Mrs Lydia Wickham—how good that sounds!'

As Lydia's voice was heard in the vestibule, and the door thrown open to reveal the Wickham's, Mrs Bennet thought with a smile decked on her face, 'What a grand life Lydia is going to have as the wife of Mr Wickham. She will be loved everywhere she goes—how could they not love her? Now, if I could get another marriage of a daughter...'

Lydia got closer to her mother, and all thoughts of other marriages were pushed aside as she stepped forward to welcome the new Mrs Wickham.

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